


Of Avarice, Ambition, and Adaptability

by tumblingStar



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Greed is a cocky little shit, I wrote this because I'm a filthy kinnie, Ling is incrdibly smug without seeming smug at all, M/M, Slow Burn, somewhat canon compliant, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2020-12-17 01:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21045959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumblingStar/pseuds/tumblingStar
Summary: A compilation of kin memories presented in the form of fanfiction because there isn't nearly enough FMAB content on AO3 in my opinion.Jacqueline Ashton is an orphan, a street rat, and self-sufficient. She has her father's blue eyes and her mother's dark hair-- her mother was Xingese, she knew, because Jackie had spent several years living with her father's sister, who was most certainly not. When she left her aunt's house, she promised herself that she would never be dependent on another person in her life, which is probably a contributing factor in her reluctance to trust others.But sometimes dependency isn't so bad, and not everyone is out to hurt you.





	1. Thief

A large hand cinched around Jacqueline Ashton's wrist, yanking her backwards. Jackie's anxiety immediately escalated into terror as she was dragged through the crowded street into an alleyway; the sun was setting, and it would be dark soon, and Dublith's underbelly was always most dangerous after dark.  


Jackie didn't dare call out for help from the crowd. If she did, all the man gripping her would have to do to turn them against her would be to explain that it was his wallet she clutched in her hand. The passers-by would turn their blind eyes to whatever it was the man intended.  


The alley was cast in shadow. The man wore nearly all black, which would make him hard to see in the darkness despite the paleness of his skin. It was the same reason Jackie wore dark colors; that, and it was harder to see how dirty they were. So the chance that a good samaritan—as if there were such a thing in this part of town—happening to see them and stepping in were low.  


"Please," Jackie whimpered, walking as far from the man as she could while he still had an iron grip on her wrist. "Please just let me go, please, I'll never do it again—"  


The man plucked his wallet from her numbing fingers with his free hand, tucking it back into his back pocket with a smile. "Your technique is sloppy, you know?"  


Jackie swallowed hard. The tears that had welled up in her eyes started to fall "Please don't hurt me."  


"I'm not gonna hurt ya, kid," the man replied. "I'm just telling you. I saw you following me around for a while—thought my family sent you until I saw your face, to be honest—felt you hand slip into my pocket. You shoulda hung farther back when tailin' me, worked harder to stay out of my line of sight. And you need a lighter hand—or at least the charisma to wink at me so it would have seemed like you were just getting a feel for my ass."  


Jackie was… confused. This wasn't the reaction she was expecting. Was he really advising her on the proper way to pick someone's pocket? She tested his hold on her wrist, and he let her go. As soon as she was free she skittered out of his reach, plastering herself against the rough brick of the opposite building to the one he leaned against. She rubbed the sore flesh and then her hand, messaging feeling back into it.  


The man tucked his hands into his pockets and folded on leg behind the other, casual, cool, collected. "I'm just saying you could stand to learn a few things."  


"Okay," Jackie replied quietly. She waited—for what, she didn't know. She hoped he would simply turn and walk out of the alley, but she figured a more likely outcome would be him rethinking his decision to release her and lunging for her.  


"Follow me if you want to." The guy said, standing up straight. He turned towards the mouth of the alley, and the golden-orange light of the setting sun struck him. "I've got years of experience to pass on, if you want it."  


His footsteps echoed on the stone as he started off. Jackie could barely believe it. He was just… going. Just leaving. Just like that. He didn't even shout at her. And he offered to help her? To teach her?  


Her stomach growled. She was reminded that she had no way to pay for any dinner, and the trash had all been gathered today, so nothing edible would have been thrown out yet.  


Taking a deep breath, she hurried after him.


	2. Kitten

The third day Jackie walked into the Devil's Nest was much like the first two. Greed's gang—whose names she had immediately forgotten and was trying to figure out without having to admit she'd forgotten them—worked the bar and tables. Greed sat on the couch entertaining patrons, a woman on each arm and a whiskey in hand. If today was anything like the last two then later he'd trade out with one of his gang, let them sit and talk for awhile as he did the dishes or tended the bar or cooked, etc. And at points during the day he'd motion her over, give her a quick lesson in picking pockets, and have her practice on someone he pointed out. If she failed he would step in and smooth everything over with his unfailing charisma, and when she succeeded he would grin and praise her and return the stolen item to the patron—explaining and smoothing everything over with his unfailing charisma. Unless he wanted it. Or saw that she did.  


Jackie sat at a table in the corner, waiting for instruction. She liked Greed. She didn't want to. Liking someone just made you all the more inclined to trust them, and Jackie had been burned before. She had to stay focused. She was just here to hone her skill enough to survive for a little longer. She had to stay cold, keep her distance from this Greed person. She had to stop being so vulnerable to his praise. Besides, what kind of person not only earned the nickname "Greed," but actively used it?  


A whistle cut through the conversation of the bar and grabbed Jackie's attention. It was Greed, waving her over. She shot him a glare and started to get up, but was evidently too slow for his liking, as he whistled again and patted his thigh demeaningly.  


Jackie's mood soured, and she stalked through the bar to stand before him.  


"There you are!" Greed grinned.  


"I'm not a _dog_," Jacqueline spat in response.  


"What's that supposed to mean?" One of Greed's gang asked, sounding hurt. His name started with a D.  


"Oh, no, nothing against dogs, I like them too," Jackie hurried to explain. "I just don't take kindly to being whistled at."  


"Dolcetto doesn't like dogs, he _is_ a dog." Greed interjected, as if that explained anything.  


Jackie gave Greed a long hard look and then very pointedly glanced at the women on either side of him. "Are you sure about that? Because the only dog I see in here is you."  


Greed didn't seem to take the insult for what it was. He just smiled at her even as he cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"  


Jackie gestured to the women. "You just seem like the type of guy who doesn't care much about his effect on other people. I've been in here three days in a row and every hour you've got a different girl with you, and don't think I haven't noticed you pulling them into the back, you're not exactly subtle. I'm half convinced that your entire reason for having me here is just some roundabout seduction tactic. That whistling stunt didn't help your case much, either."  


Greed turned to the girls on his arms and said something low enough that Jackie couldn't hear him over the murmur of the bar. The girls went, and Greed moved over to one end of the couch, gesturing for Jackie to sit at the other. Jackie sat, but did so as far from Greed as she could manage.  


"First of all," Greed began. "Your concerns are completely valid. I can't imagine you've been treated very well out in the world, especially if this is your response to me when I've made it clear that I've got not hidden agenda. Secondly, I don't think what I do with my body is really any of your business."  


Jackie opened her mouth to protest his assumption, but Greed kept talking. "I've got a personal code of honor, however way my morals may be skewed by human standards. I don't lie, I don't hurt women, and I don't trust anyone who does either of those things. The women I have sex with are stone-cold sober and consent to it."  


Jackie worked her jaw, searching for any sign of a tell. He seemed for all the world to be telling the truth, but Jackie knew better than to just take what he said at face value. No one in the underbelly of Dublith was that good of a person.  


"What are you thinking?" Greed asked, presumably seeing her mistrust.  


She heaved a sigh and sat up. "I just don't like that you're teaching me how to pickpocket without asking for anything in return except that I don't tell the cops about what I see here. I don't trust like that. There's always a hidden agenda, I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it reeks of alcohol, cigarettes, and sex in here."  


"Best smell in the world, if you ask me." Greed leaned forward and grinned.  


Jackie sneered. "We're going to have to agree to disagree."  


"What do you have against alcohol, cigarettes, and sex?" There was a teasing tone in his voice.  


"Nothing against the latter two," Jackie admitted. "Alcohol's the only vice I have grudge against. See this scar here?" she lifted her jaw and turned her head to the side, tracing the small white line just below her ear. "My aunt threw a bottle of wine at me in a drunken rage. She missed, but the bottle shattered, and this is the only mark that's withstood the test of time. On my side here," she turned to her right, lifting up her shirt just enough to show the long, jagged streak of scar tissue on her left side. "Is from when she wasn't quite drunk enough to impair her aim, but angry enough to break the bottle first. All over my hands and knees are scars from the times she forced me to crawl over broken glass for one reason or another, usually as punishment for asking her to get food instead of more alcohol because I hadn't eaten in days. Probably why I'm so small now. Malnutrition and all. I took off when I was fifteen and I've been struggling just to survive since even before then."  


Greed's face had grown progressively more serious as she spoke. When she talked about her hands he reached out and took one, slowly as if to give her plenty of time to pull away, and turned it in his own to observe the scars on her palm and fingers. His hands dwarfed hers, but they were warm.  


"And you followed me into a bar?" he gave a dry laugh, sounding more like disbelief than amusement. "You've got balls of steel, kid, I'll give ya that. But this does change things some."  


Jacqueline snatched her hand back, plastering herself against the arm of the couch. "Oh?"  


"I'm not letting you go back out there," Greed leaned away too, as if to set her more at ease. "You're gonna stay here in the Devil's Nest like the rest of us. We've got a spare room you can use. The place is warm and dry and you won't have to worry about finding your next meal, and we'll all help ya with technique and any other skill you'll need to survive out there if you ever decide to leave. But while you're living here you're gonna work here too, same as the rest of us. I think that's a fair price."  


"It doesn't sound like you're giving me much of a choice." Jackie glared at him suspiciously.  


"Yeah, well, I'm not. If you don't wanna stay here then you're not gonna get any support from us beyond what we've already offered. I'm not running a charity out here, you know? I'm Greed. If I'm gonna give shit out, I expect something in return. Free labor for free room and board."  


Jackie knew this wasn't a good idea. She knew she shouldn't take him up on this offer. But it had been so long since she'd slept in an actual bed, since she'd eaten a real meal…  


"Alright." She said. "When do I start?"  


"Tomorrow." Greed stood up and held his hand out for Jackie to take. She accepted, and he helped her to her feet. "Today you'll just get settled in. I'll take you to Martel, she'll help you out. Welcome to the gang, kitten."  


"_Kitten?_" Jackie glared.  


"Well," Greed grinned. "You're a stray I've taken in. And you're not a dog."


	3. Shot

The sound of the door to the bar opening was by no means unexpected, under ordinary circumstances. But as it was still ten in the morning and the Devil’s Nest wasn’t actually open yet, the creak of the hinges drew Jackie’s—and everyone else’s—attention quickly.  


The man that walked into the Devil’s Nest looked… shifty. He was the type of guy that Jackie’d seen a lot on the streets, someone who’d lost everything because of drugs or alcoholism. If Jackie had encountered him outside, even on the main street in broad daylight, she would have ducked her head and tried to hurry past without drawing his attention. But she’d kind of settled in here after a week; she was starting to let herself trust Greed, starting to let herself trust Martel. The others she hadn't talked to enough. She kept drying and putting away the glasses, though she didn’t quite relax or look away from the man.  


“Hey,” Greed announced from beside her, setting down his glass and placing both hands on the counter. “I admire your dedication to the drink, but we’re not open until noon. Come back later.”  


The man didn’t reply, his hands deep in the pockets of his oversized, dirty hoodie. He muttered something under his breath, his gaze jumping around the room. Apprehension danced across Jackie’s skin.  


“Come on, man,” Greed tapped his fingers on the counter. “I don’t want to have to throw you out.”  


“You won’t,” the man said, softly. His stare fixed solidly on Greed in an unsettling manner, and when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, there was a gun clutched in his hand.  


Jackie carefully set her glass down and backed away. The only exit from behind the counter was past Greed, through the line of fire, locking Jackie into her corner.  


No one else seemed remotely alarmed. Martel even rolled her eyes.  


“I want all the money in the register.” the man said, quiet voice unsettlingly steady despite his trembling hand. Jackie got the impression that his hand wasn’t shaking from nerves. “And anything else you have of value.”  


Greed laughed. A big belly laugh, like he was genuinely amused. Jackie shot him a bewildered, terrified glare, and the man’s nostrils flared with temper. He stalked closer, so the muzzle of his gun was all of a foot from Greed’s chest. Greed’s laughtered died out, but his grin didn’t fade.  


“What are you gonna do?” he leaned forward, wrapping a hand over the man’s hand and lifting his gun. The muzzle pressed against his forehead, and Greed’s finger slid to the trigger. "Shoot me?"  


Jackie was moving before she processed what was happening. Her legs propelled her up and over the counter and towards the door. Martel caught her in her arms, wrapped her up and restrained her, turning her back around to face Greed and the man.  


Blood and brain matter was splattered all over the bottles behind the counter. Greed was slumped against them, knocking over and shattering several.  


There was a significant difference between a sleeping body and a corpse, Jackie knew from experience. People died all the time out on the streets, especially in the cold. She was no stranger to death. Jackie didn’t quite know how to put it into words, but even if she weren’t looking directly at the gaping hole in Greed’s forehead spewing gore from the back of his skull, the way his body rested limp and lifeless against the floor would have tipped her off.  


Jackie didn’t realize she was screaming until the tearing feeling in her throat refused to be ignored.  


The man hadn’t seemed to have expected this development. Vaguely, Jackie saw him drop his gun and turn to run for the door.  


“Shh, sh, sh, shh,” Martel hushed, holding Jackie close in a manner that was probably meant to be as comforting as it was restraining. “It’s okay, he’s okay, just give him a second, it’s okay.”  


And that’s when red lightning began crackling around Greed’s body. That in itself shocked Jaqueline enough to stop her from struggling; when she saw that the lightning seemed to be rebuilding his skull, she stared slack-jawed.  


By the time he was standing and working his joints and muscles, Jackie was shrinking further into Martel’s embrace.  


“What the fuck?” she asked, her voice thick with damage and tears that were still falling.  


“Hey, you okay?” Greed asked her. “Wh-hey, don’t cry! Why are you crying?”  


“You never _told_ her, Greed,” Martel replied, sounding mildly annoyed. “She thought you just fucking offed yourself."  


“No, no no no no—” Greed hopped over the counter and hurried over to Jackie, reaching out to cup her face. Jackie shrank back more, but Martel pulled away and Jackie ended up just crouching on the floor with Greed kneeling in front of her. “No, hey, kitten, it’s okay, I’m okay. I’m a homunculus, I can’t die.”  


Jackie slid her arms around Greed’s neck, but writhed and shrugged him off when he tried to return what he thought was an embrace. She felt the back of his head, wet with warm liquid but entirely whole, and pulled her hands back around to cup them and stare at the blood now staining her fingers and palms.  


“Hey, ignore that,” Greed wrapped his large hand—just one—around her wrists and pulled them down as he cupped her chin with the other and lifted her gaze to meet his. “Look at me, okay? I’m right here, I’m okay.”  


“How did you do that?” Jackie asked. Quieting her voice did nothing to fix it’s horrified and damaged quality. “I saw you—the blood, there was so much blood, how did—how did you do that?”  


“Do you know anything about alchemy?” Greed asked her. She shook her head slowly, swallowing hard. “Alright, this is going to be a lot harder to explain. Well, a homunculus, like myself, is a kind of artificial human made with alchemy. Its very hard to do, only one person knows how. But it means I can’t die, and I’ve got this sweet shield—” he released her chin to knock on his chest, which Jackie had up until then thought was simply a very flattering shirt— “that I can cover my whole body with. I just don’t like to, because it’s not as pretty as the face I have right now. I should have told you earlier. I’m sorry for scaring you like that.”  


Jackie shifted her wrists, and Greed released her. She placed one hand on his chest, and in addition to being warm from his body heat, it felt hard and inflexible—which Jacqueline struggled to wrap her head around, as she watched it shift and curve with his body even well enough to highlight the movement of his muscles under his skin as he sat back on his heels to let her explore.  


“This can cover your whole body?” Jackie asked.  


“Yep.”  


“Even your head?”  


“Mhm.”  


Jackie pulled her fist back and slammed it into his sternum, sideways like how one would pound on a wall as opposed to a knuckle-breaking punch. “You didn’t think to _fucking_ do that before you _shot yourself_ in the _fucking head_?!”  


“I told you,” Greed frowned, cupping Jackie’s fist again and raising it to his lips to kiss the side of her hand. “It doesn’t look pretty.”  


“You know what else doesn’t _fucking_ look pretty?!” her voice was going to be absolutely shredded, and her shift hadn’t even started yet. “_**Brains all over your god damn alcohol and blood absolutely drenching your bar!**_”  


Greed winced, turning around to watch Martel and Dolcetto cleaning his mess off the stock and floor and wall. “Yeah. I didn’t really think that through.”  


“_Really_?” Jackie tried to shove him over, but she was small and unmuscled and he was a fucking boulder of a man. “I wouldn’t have _fucking_ guessed!”  


“Deep breaths, kitten.” Greed instructed her. “You need to calm down.”  


Jackie succeeded in taking exactly two deep breaths before the third left her lungs and brought her breakfast with it. It was Greed’s turn to pull her against him and wrap his arms around her as she dissolved into a weepy mess.  


“You guys think you can handle it on your own tonight?” she heard his voice rumble in his chest. Jackie assumed someone made some kind of comment of assent, because Greed then adjusted his hold so he was cradling her and carried her into her bedroom. He laid her on her bed and covered her with her blanket, but she latched onto his vest when he tried to pull away. He went along with her silent demand and laid down next to her, rubbing her back until she fell asleep.


	4. Property

Jackie's heart pounded in her chest as she walked down the hallway, wiping her sweaty palms on the fabric of her skirt. Greed had asked her to come to his room after the bar had closed, had asked her with a wink and grin that sent a rush of heat through her body. That was only part of the nerves wracking her, tightening her throat with her pulse. She didn't want to do anything stupid, didn't want to presume and be wrong. If Greed wasn't really hitting on her and she made a fool of herself by flirting with him, she'd never be able to face anyone in the Devil's Nest again.  
Her hand shook as she lifted it to knock on Greed's bedroom door.  


"Come on in, it's unlocked." His voice was muffled by wood and even still oddly quiet, which Jackie figured out was because he was standing in the doorway of his closet when she came in.  


Standing in the doorway of his closet, without his vest or his shield. Bare from the waist up.  


"Hey," he said, and gestured towards his bed. "Make yourself comfortable. I've got to finish putting some stuff away."  


She could feel his gaze on her, dragging up and down her body. She nodded, and Greed flashed her one of his toothy grins before ducking into his closet.  


_He wanted to fuck her he wanted to fuck her he wanted to fuck her._  


Jackie took a deep breath. He'd gestured to his bed, right? Told her to make herself comfortable? A wave of courage washed over her, and she decicded she would do just that. She toed out of her shoes and dropped her skirt to the ground, then her shirt and her bra. Her panties were the last to come off, carefully laid across the foot of the bed to look as though they'd been carelessly tossed aside as she slid under his blanket.  


The sheets smelled like him, leather and whiskey and something she couldn't name that was distinctly _Greed_. She hugged her knees, keeping the blanket pulled up to her chest.  


The minutes ticked by like hours, Jackie listening to the sounds of things rustling in the closet and losing herself in her growing apprehension, and by the time Greed had stepped out she'd nearly forgotten that she was naked in his bed.  


Greed froze, his eyes following the trail of clothes up to her, and she knew she was flushing and probably looked like she was about to bolt.  


"Oh god I've misread the situation haven't I," Jackie blurted, and scrambled out of the bed, clutching his blanket to keep her covered. "Oh my god I'm sorry please just turn around I'll go we can pretend like this never happened—"  


"No no no," Greed held out a hand, averting his gaze like a gentleman, but still grinning. His teeth were so, so sharp. "You didn't misread anything, I just didn't expect you to be so…"  


His eyes returned to her abandoned skirt, and his gaze carried weight again as he looked at her just standing there in only a blanket. "_Eager_."  


A shiver ran down Jackie's spine, excitement and fear in equal measure. Greed stalked towards her, and Jackie was struck with the mental image of a wolf and a rabbit. She clutched the blanket like, well, like a security blanket as her anticipation mounted.  


He circled her like a shark, but Jackie didn’t feel the need to turn to keep her eyes on him, and he pressed himself against her from behind. She could feel the hard carbon of his shield covering his torso, warmed from his body heat. She vaguely wondered when and why he'd put his shield back up after greeting g her, but quickly lost that train of thought when his hand came to rest on her hip and slid upwards to her waist then across her stomach, sliding between her and the blanket. His breath tickled her neck, and then his lips brushed the shell of her ear as he spoke with a purr that on its own nearly brought her to her knees. “Let’s get rid of this, shall we?”  


Greed gently pried the blanket from her hands, letting it drop to the floor with her clothes. He took her hand into his own, ceasing her trembling, as he started to kiss her neck.  


“If you want me to stop at any time, just tell me,” he murmured. “I want you to enjoy yourself.”  


“I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered.  


“Good,” Greed purred, and sank his teeth into her shoulder.

***

Greed rolled off of her and grinned, his chest heaving with his breaths. “How’re you feeling, kitten?”  


Jackie laughed breathlessly. “The soreness is starting to set in.”  


“Good,” Greed said, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Did you have fun?”  


“I thought that much was obvious,” Jackie replied. She rolled over to face him, wincing at the movement of her hips and legs. “I had a really great time, actually. I wouldn’t have expected you to be such a considerate lover.”  


“What?” Greed seemed genuinely confused, though still in good enough spirits to laugh at her misinformed initial impression. “What do you mean?”  


“You’re _greed_,” Jackie laughed. “I would have thought you’d be more selfish.”  


“I’m greed,” he agreed, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. “I want everything. Including my partner’s pleasure. Didn’t I tell you I wanted you to enjoy yourself?”  


“You did,” Jackie cupped his face and ran a hand through his hair. Catching him frowning, she pulled back. “What’s wrong?”  


Greed brushed his fingers over the bitemarks he’d left on her skin. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”  


“Oh,” Jackie laid back on Greed’s bed as her stood up. “Okay.”  


She appreciated the way his muscles moved under his skin as he pulled his pants on. “I’ll be back in a couple minutes.”  


“Alright.”  


Greed left, and locked the door behind him. Jackie realized with a start that he’d… left her alone in his room. He didn’t trust anyone alone in his room; Greed kept his stuff in his room, and he didn’t trust anyone in there without his own supervision. He kept his door locked when he wasn't in it and the key on him at all times.  


And he’d locked her in his room. Jackie wondered what that meant.  


Greed was back in a few minutes like he’d promised, laiden with first aid supplies. He set them down on the bedside table and held his arms out to Jackie, who leaned into him. Strong arms slid beneath her, lifting her up and carrying her bridal-style into the bathroom.  


“What are you doing?” Jackie asked, confused but not uncomfortable.  


“What, you’ve never had someone do any aftercare with you?” Greed asked.  


“No.”  


Greed set her down on the edge of the bathtub and started messing with the showerhead. “Well, you’re about to. You're mine, kitten. Mine to tease, mine to fuck—”  


He scooped her up and delicately lowered her into the warm water, kissing her forehead. “—mine to take care of, mine to protect.”  


Jacqueline flushed as Greed started soaping up a washcloth. “Oh.”  


“I broke you down,” he took extra care to be gentle around the claw marks over her thighs and hips. “and I’ll put you back together.”  


He cleaned her up and came into the shower with her to rinse her off and quickly clean himself up, but then wrapped her up in a towel to carry her back to the bed. “Now I’ll dress all the wounds I left you with.”  


“Mm,” Jackie accepted, sleepy and submissive. The sting of rubbing alcohol on her open wounds kept her from falling asleep, but Greed's warm hands were gentle enough with her that she otherwise would have. The last thing she was conscious of was Greed slipping into bed behind her, pulling the blanket over them and planting a kiss behind her ear as he laid his arm over her waist.

***

"So," Martel said expectantly to Jackie. "How was he?"  


Jacqueline flushed. She probably should have expected that everyone would know what had happened between her and Greed last night; the walls weren't exactly thin, but they weren't soundproof, and she wasn't really loud, but she wasn't really quiet either. She didn't think that Greed would brag about what had, ahem, transpired, but she wouldn't put it past him. And the marks on her neck and collarbone and wrists (and other places, that were covered by her clothes) were pretty telling.  


Jackie fished for something to say that wouldn't outright kill her from embarrassment. How was Greed? Phenomenal, indulgent, almost overwhelming.  


"Surprisingly soft," she said, half hiding behind her glass of tea.  


Martel smirked, easily catching Jackie's embarrassment. "Really? Because that's not what these marks say." She swept her fingers lightly across Jackie's shoulder, but some of the bite marks were tender enough that even simply that made Jackie more aware of them.  


"No, no, I mean…" Jackie knew she was blushing hard. "After. He cleaned me up and bandaged me up, like, even things that I wouldn't think needed any bandages? Just. Held me for a while too. It was nice."  


Martel snorted a little—not sarcastically, but in a way that conveyed more of a sense of well, duh. "I mean, yeah. That's usually how it goes."  


Jackie shrugged, easing now that the conversation had shifted more towards the general than the personal. "I'd been lead to believe that guys just kinda roll over and fall asleep when they're done."  


"Yeah, if they suck at sex." Martel laughed, leaned on the counter, and raised an eyebrow at Jackie. "'Lead to believe,' though? What, haven't you ever had sex before?"  


Jackie was confused. It seemed obvious to her. "No?"  


Martel's eyebrows rose dramatically, but before she said anything they both heard Greed shout "WHAT?!" from the "stockroom" (the room was meant to hold stock, being that it was a bar, but Greed kept all the stock, as with the rest of his things, locked in his room. The stockroom was now just kind of a break room) that shared the opposite side of its wall with the bar. Jackie shot Martel a curious look, which Martel returned, and then Greed hastily rounded the corner to stare, seemingly surprised about something, at Jackie.  


"You're a virgin?!" He asked her.  


Jackie colored. Martel told him, "Not anymore," but Greed seemed laser-focused on Jackie—like a cat chasing a fly.  


"I mean—!" Jackie blanked suddenly, unsure of what she could say. She hastily rounded up her thoughts. "When would I ever be able to—who would I—virginity is a social construct invented to judge the worth of a woman based on her supposed purity and to establish her as her father's or husband's property—"  


"Yeah yeah yeah," Greed said, waving her off. "We all know how fucked up the patriarchy is, we're way past that."  


"Then why does it matter?!" Jackie's embarrassment tried, weakly, to manifest as anger—she yelled, but there was no fire behind it. Just the flush of her cheeks.  


Greed took a moment to look at her, a smirk that was more like a half-grin lighting his face. His teeth were _so_ sharp. "It's still kinda hot, to know I was your first."  


Jackie laid her head onto the counter, trying to hide her face in her folded arms, but Greed wrapped a (gentle) hand around her wrist and pulled her up to follow him. Jackie caught Martel rolling her eyes as they passed.  


Greed took her back, behind the storeroom, to a little room—if it could be called that when it didn't have a door—attached to the end of the hall. There were two doors in the back of it, one leading down a flight of stairs that Jackie had never bothered to explore and one leading to a hallway that everyone's bedrooms branched off from. Between the doors hung a coat rack with a coat that Jackie had never seen anyone wear. Instead of taking her through one of the doorways, however, Greed pressed her against the wall and started kissing her.  


Several minutes later and she was fully hauled up and pinned in place, arms wound around Greed's neck as he thrusted into her and held her tight. His forehead pressed against hers, they both panted, open-mouthed, sharing breath.  


"There's one thing you're forgetting, kitten," Greed said, shifting his grip so he could support her weight with one arm as he used the other to brush the hair escaping her braid from her face. "Whether you're a virgin or not, you still belong to me."  


Jackie was confused for a second, before remembering her earlier statement. She laughed breathlessly, pressing her lips to his briefly before pulling back to explain. "It's different with you."  


"How so?" Greed asked, and shifted in a particularly pleasurable way that sent Jackie metaphorically sprawling for a second.  


"In the past," she finally managed, "men have sought to own women as a form of control. You're not like that."  


His eyes bored into hers, stealing her breath as much as his actions. She trailed a hand from his shoulder up to his neck to cup his face. "You care."  


His lips crashed into hers, and by the time the bar opened Jackie was wobbling on unsteady legs.


	5. Bark

“Hey, Dolcetto?” Jackie asked softly—just loudly enough for the chimera beside her to hear, not enough for the others setting up before opening to perceive. 

“What’s up?” Dolcetto asked, matching her volume with a curious note in his voice. He didn’t bother to look at her, though, just continuing to dry the glass in his hands. 

Jackie pursed her lips, sweeping her rag over the counter. “Can I ask you something that… might be offensive?” 

That did get Dolcetto to pause, raising an eyebrow, before continuing his work. “...Sure.” 

“Okay. Well—actually, this is going to need so backstory first. Wait but if I don’t ask this other question before that I’ll forget.” 

“Okay?” Dolcetto set the glass down, turning his full attention to Jackie. Her apprehension over insulting him only mounted, but she couldn’t exactly back out now. That would almost guarantee a level of resentment; people usually assumed a worst case scenario. 

“Do you ever have the urge to bark?” Jackie asked quietly, trying for a light-hearted smile to show no offense was meant. Dolcetto blinked at her a moment, then heaved a long-suffering sigh. 

“Not often, and it’s easy to ignore, but yeah.” 

“Cool. So when I was sixteen,” Jackie launched into her story immediately, focusing back on the counter. She’d already cleaned this spot, but now she was trying to avoid eye contact. “I knew this girl out on the streets. She used to bark at guys she found attractive. I know, it’s weird, I don’t know why she did it, but she just did, okay? It was part of her personality, she was peppy and silly and she barked. You’d hear her from a few streets away, just bark bark bark—she wouldn’t even try to sound like a dog, she’d just say the word ‘bark.’ So you’d hear her and be like, oh, I should go say hi to Ruffhouse and get the scoop on who she’s checking out. Dolcetto please stop laughing, this is serious and you’re making this harder than it has to be. So I knew her, right? Well I guess somewhere along the line of knowing her, the association got made in my brain, that—that you barked at people you found attractive, right? Dolcetto _please_ stop laughing, I’m trying to talk to you. This wasn’t a conscious decision! I didn’t decide to go around barking at people! I didn’t even pay attention to that! But every since I started sleeping with Greed, you know, I’ve been noticing him and he’ll be around just… looking the way he does—Dolcetto _please_ the others are looking over here and they’re going to ask questions please don’t expose me like this. So Greed will be looking great, right? And I’ll be admiring him and the first thought that crosses my brain will be, like, ‘say bark bark bark.’ _Dolcetto please_, for the love of god, _Greed is looking over here_.” 

Dolcetto was near the point of tears, leaning heavily on the counter she had just cleaned. “I’m sorry, I am, it’s just the first words I heard you say were ‘I’m not a dog!’” 

Jackie fixed him with a withering look, mostly to keep herself from laughing out of the simple contagiousness of laughing. It was pretty funny. “I’m aware of the irony.” 

Dolcetto heaved a few deep breaths, as if he were struggling to breathe. “He calls you kitten!” 

Inspiration struck Jackie. “Oh! Do you think I should meow at him instead?” 

Dolcetto only laughed harder, slipping on something and just barely managing to catch himself on the counter. 

Greed’s voice, dripping with amusement, cut through to Jackie’s core like a knife. Or his claws. “You guys okay over there?” 

“We’re fine.” Jackie’s voice cracked. She made eye contact with Greed and tried not to look away. 

Greed was half laughing himself. “Care to share the joke with the rest of the class?” 

Jackie fought to keep her face neutral. “Not if I don’t have to.” 

Greed stared at her a moment, grinning, clearly seeing the flush Jackie could feel creeping up her neck. “Okay,” he finally said, turning back to whatever he had been occupying himself with previously. 

One by one the gazes of the gang left Jackie, and she too slumped against the counter with relief. 

Dolcetto had gotten a hold of himself while Jackie was occupied. “Okay, okay. You had another question?” 

Jackie didn’t look at him, staring dejectedly instead at her folded arms. “I was just wondering if it would be rude of me to you if I, sleep deprived or not thinking or something, accidentally slipped up and said ‘bark bark’ one day.” 

Dolcetto made a strangled noise, as if he wanted to burst back out into laughter but was holding it together for Jackie’s sake. “No, Jackie, I’m not going to be offended if you bark at Greed.” 

*** 

Greed hadn’t bothered with a shirt, some days later, or his shield, or his vest. It was exceptionally hard to wait the tables when all Jackie wanted to do was stare at him, at the way his back muscles flexed when he did the simplest things, at his arms, so big and strong and firm, at his pecs, which she knew he could probably hold a glass between. 

Her staring didn’t go unnoticed. She’d catch Greed watching her out of the corner of his eye with a self-satisfied smile, and next thing she knew his shield would go up to his forearms because damn him he knew how much she liked his claws. Martel would roll her eyes, Jackie would hear someone snickering behind her back, and when she got distracted waiting for an order Dolcetto leaned over to her. 

“Bark bark, am I right?” he grinned. 

Jackie flushed and nearly made a helpless, complaintful noise, but Dolcetto wasn’t teasing. He winked, like they shared a joke. Jackie found herself grinning back, even as she lowered her gaze to her hands. 

“Me-fucking-yow,” she replied, just loud enough for him to hear.


	6. Scars

The room was dark, and Jacqueline restless. Though her body was plenty tired, her mind was still abuzz with questions. 

She was in Greed's bed again, listening to his even, gentle breathing. It had struck her earlier that day how little she really knew about him. He claimed that there was nothing to know to anyone who asked, but he did so with a dismissive kind of air that spoke volumes about his past. He didn't want to talk about it. 

It had Jackie twisting restlessly. What kind of person was she sharing a bed with? He was kind, yes, and gentle—he seemed a decent sort. He kept patrons of similar mind, banning the ones who hit on Martel or herself, who got too violent when drunk or sober, who were unreasonable. What past could he have run from that made him so sweet? What did being a homunculus entail—what even was a homunculus? 

What in God's name was an artificial human? 

"What's wrong?" Greed asked, his head still tucked into the crook where her neck met her shoulder. His hand on her hip rubbed her gently, like he meant to soothe her. 

"I didn't mean to wake you," Jackie said softly. 

"You didn't," Greed pulled her in closer. "I was never asleep. You didn't keep me up either, if that's what you're worried about next. Something's on your mind. You wanna talk about it?" 

Jackie sat up, pulling out of Greed's arms. The cool air of his room caressed her skin, making her shiver even as she traced patterns into the covers she clutched to her front. "It's just something you said, when we met." 

"Yeah?" Greed asked. The mattress dipped in a way that told Jackie that Greed was sitting up now too, although he respected the distance she'd put between them by not touching her, or leaning too close. 

"You said you saw me following you, and that you thought your family had sent me. But then, when you blew your head off? You said you were a homunculus, and that you weren't really human. I just… I'm confused, is all. I guess I just noticed that I don't know anything about you." 

"Ah, come on." The laugh was a little weak. "Do you really need to know any of that to know me? I'm right here next to you. I'm your boss, I'm your friend, I've been keeping you warm at night. What you see is what you get. There's nothin' deeper than this." 

Jackie turned her head to look at him. His smile didn't reach his eyes, which even in the dark pleaded with her to just let it go. She leaned closer to him, letting the blanket drop as she supported her weight with one hand and reach out to him with the other. His chest was warm against her palm, and though his hand came up to cup hers, she didn't find what she was searching for. She never felt or heard his heartbeat, no matter how many times she planted her ear to his chest. No matter how many times he listened to hers. 

"You've seen all of my scars, Greed." She told him softly. "It's only fair that you show me some of yours. Equivalent exchange, no?" 

His hand went from cupping hers to holding it—gentle, as always, but hard enough that she could tell it was taking plenty of restraint to not push her away. "I don't have any scars." 

"Not the kind left on your skin, maybe." Jackie kissed the back of his hand, and then his collarbone. "But there are scars inside, the kind that take a long time to heal. Talking can help that, you know." 

He was silent for a while. Jackie listened to his breathing for a bit, and then wrapped her arms around his torso. 

"I don't want to hear every gritty detail." She whispered against his neck. "I just want to know you." 

Greed took a deep breath, wrapping his arms back around Jackie. "It's a really long story." 

"We've got all night." 

"I don't know where to start." 

"Wherever you think is best." 

Greed gave a wry chuckle above her, and then another deep breath. "My father is… no, that's too confusing. He's very powerful, and I don't mean in a political way. He's the only man that I'm aware of who's successfully made a philosopher's stone, and he's used it to claim the powers of God for himself. Do you know what a philosopher's stone is?" 

"Not exactly, but I know it's supposed to do just about anything. But no one's ever figured out how to make one." 

"Eh, close enough. The thing is, no one but my father's ever made one because it's made from human souls." 

Jackie felt her eyes widen, but she was careful not to betray her alarm in her voice. She didn't want to push him away now, when he was finally opening up. "Oh?" 

"Yeah. Lots of 'em. Daddy dearest isn't exactly a good person. You see, to make a homunculus—without failing horribly—you need a stone. My father's made six homunculi." 

Jackie took a deep breath of her own. "God," 

"God's got nothing to do with it." Greed absently started playing with his hair, though whether to soothe her or himself, Jackie couldn't tell. "He made Pride first. He's a perpetual nine-year-old, and he can control shadows. He's the oldest of us, and the most powerful. Lust was next. She's the most humanoid of all of us, because Father made her to be able to pass as human more easily. She gathers information, does spywork. She manipulates people. When he made me, part of my purpose was for the same." 

Jackie remembered him mentioning his own moral code. _"I don't lie, I don't hurt women, and I don't trust anyone who does either of those things."_

"Mostly, though," Greed continued. "I was made to be the animal handler. Father's got a… unique security system. He made an army of chimeras—not human chimeras, like the gang, but animal chimeras. They're meant to kill anyone who goes poking around where Father lives, and they do. I was supposed to make sure they didn't escape, clean up after them, feed them, and make sure that if someone got past them somehow…" Greed trailed off, but Jackie knew what he was saying. He'd… killed people. Innocent people. 

But, honestly, did that matter to her? 

He wasn't there anymore. He hadn't done it—as far as she knew—since he left. 

"Well," she said softly. "It's gotta be better than becoming part of a philosopher's stone. Or whatever else your father may have had in mind." 

She hadn't realized Greed was holding his breath until she heard it whoosh out of him in a sigh of relief. "Yeah," he said. "Usually. There were… some of them I didn't… I like humans, you know? I thought it might be nice to have someone else around who can talk. Someone who's not part of my family. It was nice. They helped me… understand more things. You know. I didn't realize that anything Father was doing was bad until they explained some things to me. I don't know. It's hard to explain. But then Father found out about them, and Pride…" 

Greed's arms tightened around Jackie. His voice had a cold edge to it, and a kind of acerbic quality that said he was quoting someone else. "'Cleaned up my mess.'" 

Jackie shivered, and hugged Greed closer as well. "I'm so sorry, Greed." 

His face nuzzled into her neck. "It's fine. I left the next day, never looked back." 

"How long ago was that?" 

"I dunno. A hundred and fifty years?" 

Jackie pulled back to stare at him, startled. 

"Give or take a decade?" Greed shrugged. 

"How old are you?" She asked, bewildered, but not disgusted. 

"Like… two hundred. Ish. I don't know. You can't quite keep track of the days down there in the dark." 

Jackie nodded. "Yeah. Well. Helluvan age difference, between us." 

Greed snorted. "Yeah, because it totally matters when I can't age." 

"Still," Jackie teased. "You're ancient. You were around before cars were. You were around before trains! I think. You're old!" 

"Rub in it," Greed grinned, then flopped back against his pillow and took a hold of Jackie's hips. "What's that make you then? Sleeping with such an old man?" 

"Ew," she laughed. "Nevermind, nevermind, I don't wanna think about that!" 

"I'll give you something else to think about instead," Greed suggested. He rolled his hips against her, and Jackie positively mewled as she felt him harden beneath her. 

"Yeah, I'd much rather think about that," she agreed.


	7. Property, Part Two (Home)

"Sir, please don't touch me." Jackie said softly but firmly, shifting out of reach of the overly drunk man whose plate she'd come to clear away. 

"Aw, come on sweetheart," the man slurred, reaching for her again. "You're dressed so pretty, you can't blame a guy for wanting to see if you're real or just a daydream." 

His hand came down hard on her ass, which Jackie would have liked, had Greed been the one delivering the slap. She smothered a yelp and arched away from him, fighting between her own boundaries and what she knew was probably expected from her working in a bar. They wanted this guy's money; her comfort would have to be sacrificed for that. 

She’d been plenty comfortable until she started having to wait on this man, despite her outfit. She’d never bothered with fashion before—hadn’t cared what she was wearing, so long as it wouldn’t give her heatstroke in the summer or let her freeze to death in the winter, but Greed had expressed a particular appreciation for her legs and arms. Since then she’d been looking, really looking at her appearance, and when she saw outfits that would show off her assets… kind of wanted it. She never would have gone for any if them if Greed hadn’t seen her contemplative look and insisted on getting them one way or another—_every_ time she saw something. It was only logical of her to wear them; she had a short skirt, might as well throw it on. Her camisole had straps for sleeves, oh well, why not wear it? It was always warm in the bar, and if she got too cold, well, she had no doubt that a certain homunculus would have no opposition to warming her up. 

The excess attention from patrons at the bar hadn’t been predicted, but oh well. It meant she would get tipped well, right? Even is she had to deal with some drunk’s hand sliding up her thigh? 

Nevertheless, when Martel caught her eye, she couldn't help but send her a plea for help with her gaze— 

—which was how she'd missed Greed's approach, though his enraged march had drawn the sight of every other patron in the bar. 

Jackie felt the man cup and pinch her ass again, and when she flinched away and turned to ask him to stop for the umpteenth she finally spotted Greed—by now mere inches away—snatching the guy by his wrist. He pinned the drunkard's hand to the table and summoned his shield to his other hand, and the drunkard screamed in agony as Greed brought his armoured fist down onto his phalanges and metacarpals with a sickening crunch. 

Jackie's feet were rooted to the hardwood and her gaze was locked onto Greed as he grabbed the screaming man by his hair and, quite literally, dragged him out of the bar and threw him into the street. 

The bar was deathly silent in the wake of Greed's apoplectic reaction. He rounded on all of them, fixing each patron with an amethyst glare that burned and made even her shiver, when she wasn't even the subject of his wrath. 

"Let that serve as the only warning you're going to get." Greed snarled. "If any of the rest of you even think about touching what's mine, you're going to be greeted with a lot worse than just a broken hand." 

The bar was muted for another moment before Greed moved, stalking towards Jackie. The patrons, freed now from the pressure of Greed's rage, returned the building to its usual roar, which in conjunction with Greed's now concerned expression, helped set Jackie at ease again. 

Greed reached her, cupping her face with one hand and resting the other on her waist. "You okay, kitten?" 

His violet eyes bored into her own, and Jackie lost herself in them. Her own heartbeat filled her ears, drowning out the sounds of the bar, and the seconds seemed to drag on for hours. 

He'd saved her. He'd helped her. 

Sure, he'd phrased it as if he was simply defending his territory, his possession, but the raw worry in his gaze, in his touch, told another story. 

"_You're mine, kitten,_" he'd said to her that night, before she fell asleep. "_Mine to tease, mine to fuck, mine to take care of, mine to protect._" 

Not just empty words. 

She felt her chest start to ache in a sweet, wonderful way. Her heartbeat sped up, and before she realized what she was doing she leaned her face against his hand, raising her own to cover his and keep it on her cheek. 

"Better," she heard herself say, breezily, vulnerably, "now that you're here." 

Relief washed over his face, and he brushed the baby hairs the had loosened from her braid behind her ear with his free hand before leaning in. Jackie's heart stopped, though he'd kissed her many times before, but his lips landed almost delicately on her forehead. Nevertheless, she felt her cheeks heat in a flush and flowers burst open in her chest. 

Because she loved him. This wasn't some infatuation that would pass soon enough, leaving her with another place to avoid. This was substantial, this was solid. For the first time since her father's death, she wouldn't be walking on eggshells. Greed would protect her, and the chimeras—her friends, she had _friends_—would have her back as well. 

She was _home_. 

Greed drew away from her—a little reluctantly, she wanted to think—and started for the counter of the bar. 

Jackie, on impulse, latched onto his hand. He stopped and turned to her. "What?" 

"N-" Jackie wasn't prepared for this. "Nothing, I just… can I… stay with you today? Not to get in your way, or anything, I'll be quiet, I just…" 

Greed grinned, and fixed their hands so he was holding hers. 

"You really are just like a cat." He chuckled. "Sure, you can play my shadow today, kitten. I'll even pet you and let you sit on my lap." 

Jackie flushed, and took up quick steps to stay close to him as he walked away. That… didn't actually sound too bad.


	8. Dedication

Martel snorted and smirked at Jackie. "If you really wanna see how much he cares around you, tell him you want to have a kid or something." 

"But I don't want to have a kid. I can't be a mom, I've never had a reliable mother figure to look up to and imit—" Jacqueline began. "Wait, actually that's genius." 

"What?" Martel furrowed her eyebrows. "No it's not." 

"No, it is!" Jackie protested. "Because if I tell him I want kids he'll either duck out or be for it and then I'll know!" 

"Jackie, no, listen to me, just talk to hi—" 

Jackie was already out the door. 

*** 

It wasn't until later that night that Jackie found her opportunity. She'd either been impeded by customers or friends all day, never getting the chance to have a private conversation with Greed. She was half asleep, her face pressed against Greed's bare chest, the blanket only pulled up to her waist, but Greed's arm wrapped around her and his proximity radiated enough heat to keep her comfortable. He was talking, and though she couldn't gather enough consciousness to pay attention to his words, his voice was a comfort that she focused on—it brought to mind drifting thoughts of how much she he had come to mean to her over her months in the Nest, and how she worried whether the depth of his emotion matched hers, and—_oh, yeah_. 

"I want a baby," Jackie said, suddenly awake and not realizing she'd interrupted him until he abruptly stopped talking. 

And didn't say anything. 

Jacqueline's stomach twisted violently, the nausea-adjacent knotting of fear chilling her breath. What would she do if he didn't agree? She hadn't thought this far ahead. Would she leave? Would she stay in a sort-of relationship where she wasn't truly wanted? She should have kept her mouth shut. She should have dealt with it like an adult, by shoving her feelings deep down where they couldn't bother her and not talking about it. But what would she do if he agreed? Have a kid? Bear a child she didn't want and didn't know how to raise? Screw up an entire human being with a life and thoughts and the capacity to love— 

"Well," Greed said at last, his fingers drumming against Jackie's back. "Me being a homunculus, and homunculi being infertile, you've asked for the one thing I can't give you." 

That's right, he'd told her that before. This was a terrible idea. Jackie tried to disguise her sigh of relief as a simple exhale, but her performance probably wasn't the most convincing. 

"But," Greed said, apparently not finished and now letting go of Jackie to sit up. Jackie propped herself on her elbows to watch him as he leaned over the side of them bed and started, seemingly, to search through the clothes they two had discarded earlier to fall into bed together. "I think I can figure out a few ways to get around that." 

There, she had her answer. He'd find a way to have kids with her if she wanted them. She should tell him now, immediately, that she didn't want kids, that she couldn't handle the responsibility. She should ignore her curiosity. 

"Like what?" She asked, sitting up fully. 

Greed tossed something at her—her shirt? His vest? It was too dark to see the exact item of clothing he'd thrown at her, but light enough to see his grin. "How fast can you run?" 

She had to stop this. She let the cloth drop from her fingertips to the floor on her side of the bed—funny how she spent so much time in his room that she had a side of the bed now—and crawled over to him, drawing him back from the edge of the bed that he'd leaned over again and sliding her arms around his waist, lifting her face to press kisses against his collarbone. "I don't really want a kid, Greed." 

She felt his hand on her back, warm and soothing. He asked, "No?" 

"No." 

"Are you sure? You're not just saying that because you don't want to steal a baby, right? Because sure, there are other ways to get you pregnant, but I'll be damned if anyone else—" 

"No, that's not—" Jackie laughed a little, and pulled herself up so she was sitting in his lap, straddling his thighs. She couldn't bring herself to look at his face, her stomach twisting with anxiety at what she was about to admit, so she preoccupied herself by staring at her fingers tracing the muscles of his torso. "I've just been a little… unsure, about where I stand in your life. I know how much I care about you, but I don't know… how to figure out how much you care about me. I talked to Martel, just venting, and she said to ask you if you wanted to have kids, because it could be a helpful measuring tool, and I—" 

Greed's laughter startled her into looking at him, a snicker that was more chuckle than spite. "Kitten, Martel was joking. That's the exact kind of thing she would say sarcastically to poke fun at you." 

Jackie flushed, feeling stupid. "Oh." 

Greed laughed again, and when he flopped back into his pillow he pulled Jackie down with him so she was laying on his chest. He brushed his fingers through her loose hair and stayed playing with the ends of it. "Ash, you know you can just ask me how I feel about you. I'm not going to lie." 

Jackie shrugged, avoiding his gaze again, resting her chin on her folded arms. The revival of the old nickname—she had introduced herself with her last name, Ashton, not wanting him to get close—was comforting. It was just like Greed to turn something she'd meant to use to hold him at an arm's distance into something that made her heart flutter. "Asking can be scary." 

"Have I ever given you a reason to be scared of me?" 

"Plenty," she replied, thinking of the hand breaking, the attempted robbery, his general aura. At his expression, though, she quickly added, "but nothing you've ever done or said to me has been one. I just mean, like, if I were someone else and I'd seen what I've seen, I'd be scared. I know you won't hurt me." 

"Oh." He smoothed a hand through her hair again, as if he were petting a cat. Like her nick-namesake. "You had me worried there for a second." 

"No, you've never—you've only—" She couldn't think of how to phrase it, how to tell him that everything he'd done to her and around her only endeared him more to her. He'd defended her and taught her and given her a home, a family, a safe place to sleep. How could she possibly convey the depth that he made her feel? 

"I love you," she said, quietly, tentatively, half hiding behind loose hair and folded arms. But her eyes were focused on his purple ones, and she saw how they widened when she spoke it, and she knew she had been heard. 

He sat up unexpectedly, nearly unseating Jacqueline as he did so, but he cupped her face and kept her in place. 

"Say that again," he demanded, open and almost vulnerable. 

"I love you." She obeyed, more confident, a little louder. He kissed her, something desperate and _definitely_ vulnerable in the brief lock of their lips before he pulled away again. He pressed his forehead against hers, panting too heavily for the shortness of the kiss, but she knew it wasn't the kiss that had stolen his breath. 

"Say it again," he whispered. 

"I love you." 

He said it back, "I love you too," mumbled into her mouth as he kissed her again—and again, and again. 

They didn't get much sleep that night.


	9. Gone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

Jackie's heels clicked against the pavement with a cheerful sound. She'd had a good, productive day—her pockets were heavy with loot and her confidence soared, and she was glad to be coming home despite it. She liked being home more than she liked being out; she supposed it made sense, given that she'd spent a lot of her hardest times while out and had been nothing but accepted and loved and protected at the Devil's Nest. 

The door to the nest was slightly ajar. Jackie slowed her brisk walk to a confused meander. It… was a good door. It wasn't a door that just hung open on it's own. Who would leave the door open? And—it was getting dark out. Light should be spilling out into the street. Noise, too. 

Why was it so quiet? Why was it so dark? 

Jackie cautiously opened the door to the Devil's Nest. It… was empty? Even before flicking on the lights she could tell; there was no sound, not even a whisper of motion, and no shapes moving in the dark. 

She reached out along the wall, her breath catching and her heartbeat stuttering. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. 

The room lit up for a split second before a single lightbulb blew out, but it was still light enough for Jackie to see the absolute disaster that the Nest had become. It seemed like every bottle had been smashed, the shelves holding them broken, the plaster on the walls dented and cracked as if someone had been thrown into them. The floor was… weird, cratered and stalagmited in a way she'd never seen before, and definitely hadn't left it that morning. 

What the fuck happened here? 

"Greed?" Jackie called out tentatively. She could barely hear her own voice over the sound of her heartbeat, so she tried again after clearing her throat. "Martel? Dolcetto?" 

Broken glass crunched underneath her boots. Her pace was slow, her gaze analytic, as she went from room to room, searching for any sign of life. 

Where was everyone? They couldn't have just left—all the gang's rooms were still set up, waiting for their residents to come back. There'd been no packing, not as far as Jackie could tell, but something had happened. 

She tried her and Greed's room, but it was locked. Greed still had the key; he'd never bothered to make her a copy. She'd never needed one. Either they were going in together, or he'd pass it off to her to run and fetch something really quick. 

This assured her slightly. Not everything was irregular. Maybe the gang was out for something—gathering supplies for repairs. Greed was gonna be pissed about whoever thebfuck had done this to his bar, it would take the whole gang to keep him cool about it. Damage was temporary. There wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed or replaced. At least they were all safe. 

Jackie just had to wait for them to get back. 

She locked the front door, in case someone tried to get in. The bar was closed, after all, it couldn't function like this. They all had keys to the front door, they'd be able to get in without a problem. She turned the couch back over onto its feet (it was slanted now, slightly, as two of its feet had been damaged) and retrieved a book from her old room. She still kept most of her things there; it was better not to mix one's belongings in with Greed's, else it became Greed's. 

The clock on the wall had fallen to the floor and broken, so Jackie wasn't sure how long she waited. What she did know was that when she woke up in the morning her neck was stiff, and the Devil's Nest was still empty. Save for her. 

She started cleaning. She swept up the glass and plaster dust and then fell to her knees to scrub alcohol and some brown stain that _definitely was not blood_ off the floor. Then she tidied her room, and the gangs' rooms. She tried to get into her and Greed's room again, to no avail. 

And she paced. 

There were people she could go to. People she could ask. People Greed had known and trusted from previous deals and favors. And when the sun began to hang low in the sky she went to them, armed with her favorite knife to keep away the creeps and she asked for information. 

No one knew much. Something about a kid, something about a butcher's wife, something about the State Military. The consensus was that nothing good had happened, and no one knew where Greed or Martel or Dolcetto or Roa or Bido or Ulchi were. 

Jacqueline returned to the Devil's Nest desperately fighting back tears. Something wild was raging in her chest, sending panic through her limbs to weaken them. Her hands shook as she locked the door, so she clamped them between her thighs as she waited. 

They were her friends. Her family. This was her home. They would come back. They had to come back. 

She woke up some time during the night with a gnawing hole in her chest that ached and bled like a stab wound, shivering from the cold. She tried again to get into Greed's room, kicking at the knob and trying to unscrew the hinges, but her vision blurred from crying and her limbs were still weak with worry. The wood of the door supported her for several minutes as she made quiet little noises and gasps, sobbing without tears because she would be damned if she were going to cry when she knew, she knew her friends were fine and safe and okay. She knew it. The sky was blue, the grass was green, her friends were coming back. She comforted herself enough to get up and retreat to her old room. Her bed was cold. The sheets didn't smell right. She was lonely. 

She found one of Greed's shirts on the floor and put it on, burying her face in the collar to try and catch his scent, but it had been too long _abandoned forgotten rejected stranded ditched unwanted_ since Greed had worn it. 

Her dreams were confusing. When she woke, she only remembered the feeling of isolation. 

That third day, Jacqueline Ashton got angry. 

She'd been left behind. There was no other explanation. The military had come and they ran, like cowards, and cut their losses. Cut their loss. Cut her. 

_Because they had to be alive._

She took her anger out on everything left that she could break; she slashed their mattresses, their sheets, their blankets, their clothes. Everything they'd given up, just like her. 

_Even though Greed would never abandon his belongings. Even though the gang had welcomed her with open arms._

She smashed all the remaining glasses, and tried for the final time to break into Greed's room. Her rage gave her strength, but once the splintered wood finally gave way to her pounding feet, she just felt raw and hurt. She didn't want to go in there. Destroying his things, that was off limits. He would be beyond furious. 

_Because Greed was immortal, but the rest were not._

And that's why they ran, of course, to keep their heads off the chopping block. Never mind that whoever they'd gotten into hot water with could have gotten her, no, they didn't care about her. They never had. Greed never had. He'd wanted her, yes, but he never really cared about her. Because if he had he'd be back for her. 

_Unless something was keeping him away._

She looted the rest. She took blankets she hadn't destroyed, packed her clothes, packed food. Greed kept the money in his room—selfish bastard—and so Jackie only had what she'd pick pocketed the day she'd come home to disaster. To destruction. To emptiness and abandonment. 

Jaqueline Ashton had to harden her heart and pull through. 

She had to face the fact that she'd been deserted. 

_Because even entertaining the idea of the alternative, though it was far more likely, was much too painful to consider._


	10. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's gonna hurt too, but hopefully not as much as the last one. I meant to leave y'all stewing in that for a little longer, considering how long I sat on it because I wasn't ready to release it, but I finished rewriting this chapter and was really excited about posting it, so come get this bread

Four months and three weeks later—not that she was counting days—Jaqueline Ashton shoulder-checked her target. It was risky; he was in a group with two burly men and a blonde child in a white coat, but his clothes looked well-made and expensive—if well-worn. Odds were that this Xingese man had money, and Jackie quickly swiped his wallet from his inner coat pocket and tucked it into the thigh pocket of her khakis. 

"Sorry," she muttered to the guy, turning towards him and raising a placating hand, as if she'd bumped into him by accident. She didn't raise her face to his fully, hoping to stay only half noticed. 

But the man stopped in his tracks, and Jackie, surprised, glanced up at his face. She'd never met this guy before, never seen him in her life until that day, but he stared at her with a look on his face like a man haunted. 

Jackie's heart rate doubled. Her first thought was that he realized what she'd done, but he made no move to grab her, and she calmed a little. 

The man's companions seemed to notice they were leaving him behind—he and Jackie had stopped in the middle of the street, after all—and turned back to him. 

"Ling?" asked the child in white. The Xingese man's head snapped towards him, like he'd come out of a trance, and Jackie turned to go. 

"Wait!" the man commanded, noticing her go, and Jackie figured it was better to be safe than sorry and took off. The pounding of running feet followed her. 

Jacqueline was a sprinter, not a long-distance runner, so she knew she had to lose this guy as soon as possible. She weaved in and out of backalleys and streets, never daring to look behind her, but she could hear him behind her like a homing missile, growing ever closer as her pace slowed in exhaustion. 

He caught up to her at a crossroads where three alleys met between buildings and a chain-link fence, and grabbing her wrist and nearly pulling her arm out of socket as he stopped dead and her momentum carried her forward. He yanked her towards him and Jackie immediately began to wriggle and writhe. She was like a cat: impossible to hold onto if she didn't want to be held. 

But this guy managed to hang onto her, shifting his arms like he'd had experience with wrangling people like her. She managed to unbalance him eventually, knocking him flat on his back, and his head hit the concrete—which should have at least stunned him. Instead of laying dazed, he immediately flipped them over so he was hovering over her, straddling her thighs and grabbing her wrists with one hand to stretch them above her head. 

"_Fuck!_" Jackie shouted, trying to struggle, but completely immobilized. "Fine! I'll give you your wallet back, just let me go!" 

The man above her looked confused. "My wallet? What…?" he reached into his coat with his free hand and felt the pocket. Then, of all reactions, he _grinned_. "You've gotten better at that, Ash." 

Jackie's heart seized like someone was squeezing it, and she snarled at him on instinct. "Don't _fucking_ call me that!" 

There was a beat of silence, in which she processed the rest of his sentence and he looked surprised. 

"What hell do you mean by _I've gotten better_?" She glared. "Do you know me?" 

"Know you?" The man cupped her chin with his free hand, leaning over her. "Kitten, I _own_ you." 

Her heart dropped dead in her chest then, as she connected the dots. 

The look on his face when he saw her. 

The way he knew to stay on her heels when he chased her. 

How he knew to counter her struggling. 

_Ash._

_Kitten._

"Greed?" she asked when she could breathe again. 

The man sighed and grinned at her, and she could read his gaze like a book. Relief above all shone one his eyes, but there was a visceral joy and a deep-running grief alongside concern. 

He released Jackie's hands and slid her thighs out from underneath him, so now she was straddling his hips, and Jackie pushed herself up with one hand while something white-hot flashed through her veins and she pulled her free hand back. 

Her fist connected with Greed's face with a satisfying _crack_, and she knew from the way her knuckles ached that she'd broken his nose. Some sadistic part of her curled in pleasure, but mostly she just felt raw and infuriated as she got to her feet and leaned over him. 

Greed sat back up, red lightning crackling under his hand where he held his nose, and he didn't look nearly as furious as she expected him to even as he yelled, "What the _fu_—" 

"Where the _hell_ were you?!" Jacqueline demanded, louder than she'd meant to. "I waited for you for _three fucking days_, you bastard! For _three fucking days_ I stayed in the trashed fucking bar, thinking _no_, he'll come back to me, he _loves_ me, I _belong_ to him, I'm his to—" 

Jackie's voice broke, her throat thick with tears that overflowed as she gasped and grasped at the fury slipping away from her. "His to _protect_, his to _take care of_…" 

Greed grabbed her hands and pulled her into his lap, forcing her knees to give out as he cradled her. She shoved at his shoulders half-heartedly but gave in almost immediately, really only wanting to be held by him. She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck—he smelled as different as he looked, and she wasn't sure if she liked either—and wrapped her arms around him. 

"Why did you leave me?" her sob was muffled by his shirt. It felt as expensive as she gauged it to be in the first place, soft and soothing against her face. "What did I do wrong?" 

"You didn't do anything, Kitten," Greed clutched her tightly, and she realized she was serving as his security blanket when he fisted the material of her shirt. "I swear I didn't mean to leave you behind, but I promise you, you didn't want to go where I went." 

"_Anywhere_ with you would have been better than alone." 

"No, Kitten, I _died_." 

Jackie pulled away so she could see his face, staring into unfamiliar wine-colored eyes. "You can't die. I watched you blow your brains out and then get up and jump over the bar counter." 

Greed looked upset but in a resigned kind of way, like he was as tired as he was sad. "I was unmade. I made a stupid decision and shit went south and the State Military came in, and my father had his fingers everywhere in it and I was brought back to him, and… it's a really long story." 

Jacqueline's stomach rolled like she was going to throw up, but she stabilized herself by gripping Greed's shoulders more tightly. "Wh—why didn't the gang stop them? Where are they? I didn't recognize any of the people you were with—what happened?" 

That haunted look crept onto Greed's face again, and Jackie _knew_, but she didn't… she didn't want to face that. Couldn't consider that as an option. "Greed? Where are they?" 

It was Greed burying his face in the crook of her neck, now, muffling his voice in her shirt. "I'm sorry, Kitten. I couldn't protect them." 

She felt his tears wet her skin, and she fell to pieces.


	11. Readjusting

It was dark by the time they were both composed and relatively stable. Greed held her hand as they walked through the streets, looking for the new group of people he'd been travelling with as he filled her in on everything she'd missed. 

"You know it'll probably be easier for—" Jackie blanked on the names she'd just been given, "—them to sniff you out if we stay put." 

"I'm retracing our steps," he replied. "We'll meet them in the middle when they catch my scen—there, see?" 

Down the nearly empty street, three people caught sight of them. One—the kid Jackie'd noticed earlier, the blonde who was apparently not as young as she'd initially assumed—barreled towards them. 

Never one for confrontation, Jackie ducked behind Greed and gripped the back of his coat in her fists. 

"LING!" The kid—which one did Greed say he was again? Edmund?—shouted as he skidded to a stop right in front of them. "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING, JUST TAKING OFF LIKE THAT?! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO INSISTED WE JOIN UP WITH Y—" 

He stopped talking abruptly, and Jackie leaned around Greed to see that he was holding out an open pouch. He jiggled it, expectantly—it jangled like there were coins inside—and Edmund looked like he was a volcano, about to blow up. He vehemently patted down his pockets, picked a coin up off the ground, and tossed it into the pouch with the veins in his neck bulging in rage. "_GREED_—" 

"I saw something that belonged to me." Greed reached behind him and gently took Jackie by the wrist, drawing her out from behind him to stand by his side. She pressed herself against him, glancing up just long enough for a quick wave and a forced smile before she ducked her head back down again. The rage that had been rolling off of Ed in waves evaporated as soon as he saw her, the two chimeras finally catching up as Greed spoke again. "Couldn't leave her behind, she's mine. I don't abandon my things." 

She knew it wasn't a stab at her, but shame still sliced through her gut. 

"You're going to bring her with us?" One of the chimeras asked. "I don't think it's quite… safe, for someone so…" 

"The safest place for her is right next to me." Greed said firmly, wrapping his arm around Jackie's shoulders. 

Ed sighed and leaned to the side so he was talking to her directly. "Can you fight?" 

"Some." Jackie replied. "Defensively." 

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is a bad idea." 

Jackie set her mouth. "I think you're all mistaken about whose decision it is whether or not I go." 

She saw Greed look down at her in surprise from her peripheral, and she tightened her grip on his coat. "I already lost him once. You three are delusional if you think I'm going to let him just walk away from me." 

Edmund blinked at her, but Greed broke into a grin. 

"Guess that's that, then," he said. "Let's get going." 

The four made conversation as all five went along. Jackie was always quiet around new people; she liked to learn about who she was hanging around before jumping in with them. 

For example: she learned that Edmund's name was actually Edward. 

They headed into the woods, which Jackie didn't like at night. They found a clearing and split up to get kindling and firewood (Ed griping about how they could have done it earlier, had Greed not run off after Jackie without saying anything), which Jackie didn't like at night. She barely strayed more than three feet from Greed, but the noises and the aura of the forest and the dark… she didn't like the night. 

It had taken only a couple of weeks for Jackie's old habits to come back. She'd spent years homeless in Dublith, taking shelter where she could and searching high and low for a safe place at night. She'd seen more than she'd ever wanted to and avoided more than she'd had a right to; she was unspeakably lucky. She'd re-learned that everything was safer in the daylight, where a shout would bring attention from various people going about their day. At night when everyone was holed up in their houses and only predators roamed, you had to be alert. 

Greed and the gang had changed that for her. She'd stopped jumping at every noise, being ready to bolt or fight like hell to get away. She'd relaxed into the knowledge that Greed would take care of her, and if he was out, she had more family who'd have her back. 

Two weeks before she'd reverted back to the person she'd been before Greed, except now, the comparison to a stray cat made sense to her. Slinking around mostly unseen, hissing at anyone who tried to interact with her, jumping and bolting at the slightest hint of a threat. 

But Greed was here now. Again. And though part of her just wanted to curl up in his lap and purr herself to sleep… it was hard not to be. Alert. Hard not to be scared that she'd wake up and he'd be gone. 

She started when he put his hand on her shoulder, dropping her armload of branches as she shot forward a few feet and turned to face him, pulling her knife out of its sheath on her lower back before she even knew what she was doing. 

To his credit, Greed didn't approach her. He lifted his hands, letting his own wood fall, as her brain caught up with her instincts. She bit her lip and lowered her head, relaxing her knife arm and bringing her other to hold herself. 

"Easy, Kitten," Greed said, softly, reaching forward and taking a few steps toward her. She leaned into his touch, nuzzling her face against his palm, and he took her invitation to come all the way to her and pull her into a hug. One hand cupped her head to his chest—more to his neck, really, he was shorter now—and the other rubbed her upper back soothingly, like a half-assed massage. Jackie resheathed her knife and slid her hands beneath his coat, wrapping her arms around his middle. 

"I'm sorry," she told him, and inhaled his unfamiliar scent—something clean, like soap, even though he couldn't have showered recently, and something spicy-sweet-smoky that was distinctly _not Greed_, who always smelled like leather and cologne and something that was _almost_ like chocolate, but sharper, and deeper, and not as sweet—and exhaled, frustrated with herself. "I'm used to… not being used to. This." 

"You shouldn't be." There was an anger in Greed's voice, undercut with the sting of mourning. "Sorry. Or used to be scared all the time again. I… fuck, Ash, I'm so fucking sorry—" 

"What do you have to be sorry for?" Jackie tucked her face into his neck, speaking against his skin, determined to glean any bit of comfort from his smell that she could or suffocate trying. "You _died_. Literally none of this is your fault." 

"I could have been more careful." Greed reputed. "Like you always asked me to be." 

"This is _not_ your fault." Jackie pushed him away from her and grabbed his face, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "There are a million reasons I'm out here and you're not to blame for any of them. There are a billion reasons I am the way I am and not a single one of them can be placed on your shoulders. There's no way to know that things would have been different down in those sewers. If you'd had your shield all the way up maybe you'd have only delayed the inevitable. Maybe I would have ended up down there too. Maybe things would have gone worse. Maybe those kids would get caught in the crossfire. These things that happened can't be blamed on you. There's only one person responsible for all of this." 

Greed took a deep breath, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to hers. He let it out slow, steadying himself. "When did you become the comforter in this relationship?" 

"I can't let you have _all_ the stability." Jackie joked, sliding her arms around him again—this time, cupping the back of his neck and circling his shoulders. 

Greed took another deep breath, and another, and when he pulled away he stopped to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. 

Her heart stopped dead in her chest and for a moment she forgot how to breathe. 

"Kitten?" 

Heat exploded through her face and air returned to her. 

"I'd gotten used to. Not being used to that, also." 

A hunger and a determination flashed in his eyes. "Yeah? Well Kitten, as soon as we get a private place I think some exposure therapy is in order." 

Jackie's hands shook as she laughed, lowering herself to her knees to try and find her firewood again in the darkness. "I don't think that's what that is, but I know what you're getting at." 

"HEY!" rang Ed's voice. "ARE YOU TWO LOVEBIRDS DONE YET? IT'S FUCKING COLD!" 

It _was_ cold. Jackie's fingers were numbing—winter was fast approaching, after all, autumn fading away. Greed shouted back some snarky reply as Jackie scrambled to fill her arms with branches and sticks. 

The fire had already been started by the time Jackie and Greed got back to the clearing, and small as fresh fires were, it was still warm. Jackie sat beside it, legs crossed. 

"So," she said. "We're on a quest to defeat six homunculi and one super-homunculus who's been hatching a two-thousand-year-old plan to absorb the souls of the entirety of Amestris." 

"Five homunculi," Ed corrected, "but yeah." 

"Sounds doable," Jackie replied flippantly, but was interrupted by Greed. 

"Last I counted I had six siblings, pipsqueak." Greed rolled his eyes. 

Ed looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm, but clenched his fists, took a teeth breath, and managed through clenched teeth, "Didn't anyone tell you about Lust?" 

Greed raised an eyebrow. "Tell me what?" 

"She died?" 

Greed's spine went rimrod straight, suddenly very invested in what Ed was saying. "Like dead-dead? Permanently dead? Stone drained entirely?" 

"Yeah," Ed told him. "You really didn't know?" 

"They didn't tell me," Greed said. "They didn't talk about her at all, I figured she was doing something spy-ish. How'd you pull it off?" 

"Colonel Mustang lit her up." Ed replied. "A lot." 

Greed sat back on his hands. Jackie turned to him, trying to discern his expression as he gazed into the campfire. For a moment she couldn't tell what he was thinking, but then he started fighting a smile—and then broke into a full grin, sharp teeth and all. He leaned against Jackie, looking intensely satisfied. "Tragic." 

"You seem pleased," Jackie teased, flicking his cheek, and Greed shifted so he laid his head in her lap. 

"Last time I saw my big sister she was watching gleefully as I was lowered slowly into a vat of boiling lava," Greed smirked, too cheerfully for the way the confession made Jackie's blood chill. She curled her fingers into his long, _long_ hair as he continued. "I can appreciate irony when I hear it. You good, Kitten?" 

"_Lava_?" Jackie asked softly. 

"Hey, I'm here now aren't I?" Greed reached around her waist to rub her back soothingly. 

Ed narrowed his eyes at them. "You guys aren't gonna be all gross and lovey-dovey this whole time, right? Because sexual activity is strictly banned within a 500 foot radius of me. That's disgusting." 

Greed rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm so glad you established that, Edward, I was _definitely_ planning on bending her over here and now in front of God and all three of you." 

"I'm just saying!" Ed defended. "And isn't Ling fifteen anyway?" 

"What?" Greed's face scrunched into that adorable expression he makes whenever he's confused, bending his neck to look at Ed upside-down. Jackie was glad to see the expressions she recognized on unfamiliar features. "Where'd you get that idea?" 

"Ling told me!" Ed snapped. 

Greed got a far away look in his eyes for a moment. Jackie glanced between him, Ed, Heinkel, and Darius, looking for an explanation, but before anyone said anything he burst out laughing and sat up again. 

"Kid was fucking with you," he grinned, delighted. "Wanted to see about how hard you'd flip your shit if you thought the two of you were the same age but that he was so much taller and more mature. He says he forgot to ever tell you the truth. He's twenty." 

Ed lunged over Jackie to get to Greed, who held him at arm's length as he laughed. Jackie couldn't entirely make out what Ed was saying between his volume and Greed's mirth, but she caught something about letting the lying bastard out so Ed could give him a piece of his mind. 

"And Ling is the…" Jackie gestured at Greed's borrowed body as Greed finally pushed Ed back to his spot before the fire. 

"Mhm," Greed confirms. "He was actually in control when you bumped into us earlier. Recognized you from my memories, got my attention." 

Jackie's heart did a funny little flip at that—she wasn't sure what caused it. It was either the anxiety over the idea that Greed finding her was such a slim chance—if this Ling hadn't recognized her, or hesitated to say it, she wouldn't be here with Greed right now. But also knowing that there was someone else looking out for Greed… you have to care about someone to see the person they loved and point them out to them. 

"Can you tell him thank you for me?" Jackie asked. 

"He can hear you." Greed pulled her into his side, resting his arm across her shoulders. "He says it's no problem." 

Jackie nodded, leaning against Greed. Sitting with him, in front of a warm fire, with the quiet sounds of Ed, Darius, and Heinkel's conversation, she suddenly realized how tired she was. She curled closer into Greed, and was shocked to hear a heartbeat. 

It was steady. Grounding. Soothing. Before she knew it, she was asleep.


	12. Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY!!!! LING!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ITS THE PRETTYBOY

A few days after she joined the group, Jackie woke up cold in the middle of the night. 

They were taking shelter in some abandoned house just outside of some town Jackie didn't remember the name of. They didn't want to risk burning the place down and drawing attention with a fire, but the place had a few moth-eaten blankets to keep warm. She and Greed had shared one, both because they were together and because she ran a little colder than most. 

Usually when Greed slept he clung to her, like a child to a stuffed animal. It had been rough the first few times they slept together, waking each other up as they shifted to be comfortable—Jackie spreading out like a starfish and Greed the octopus trying to latch onto her—but eventually they worked out a spooning-like position that let Jackie sleep on her stomach with an arm and a leg outstretched and Greed pressed against her other side, his leg over her tame one and his arm around her waist, holding her close. He'd kept her pretty warm this way as they slept at night, when the temperatures dropped. 

So when she woke up cold, the first thing she did was roll over to reach out for him. Her hand was met with bare floorboards, barely warmed, as if Greed had gotten up a while ago and hadn't come back yet. 

This thought sent lightning through her chest, and suddenly Jackie was awake and alert. Not trying to wake anyone else up—she could hear soft breathing and snoring, so someone else was clearly here—she slowly sat up and looked around. 

Greed was sitting not too far from the group, leaning against the doorway of the house with an arm propped up on his leg as he looked outside. They slept in shifts, of course, but usually Jackie got up with Greed when it was his turn to keep watch, and they'd already had their turn tonight. 

Jackie crawled closer to him, intending to slip her arms around him from behind and ask what was wrong, but he heard her approach and… it wasn't. Him. When he turned around. Something about the way he held himself, and his facial expression, and the way he was squinting at her tipped her off. She faltered in place. 

"Hi," the stranger said quietly, smiling. "Sorry, I'm not Greed." 

The voice was the same, if higher—which made sense. They had the same vocal cords. Greed's voice had always been deep, so naturally he would be used to talking in a lower register. 

Jackie approached cautiously. "Ling, right?" 

"Mhm." Ling made room for her, crossing his legs and unblocking half the doorway. "And you're Jackie." 

Jackie settled into the place he'd cleared for her. "Greed said you recognized me." 

"Yup. Even before he remembered you, your face and name kept popping up in here." He tapped his temple. "I just happened to be the one fronting when you came along." 

"Is he okay?" 

"Oh yeah he's fine," Ling answered. "Just tired. It's one of those things you don't notice until you have the option to step back, but being in control of a body all the time is wearing." 

"Oh." Jackie acknowledged. 

Ling cocked his head as he looked at her, not dropping that easy smile. "Why are you up?" 

Jackie shrugged, pulling her knees to her chest. "I got cold. Oh, no, you don't have to—I- I'm fine, I just thought if—" 

"Take it," Ling held out the coat he'd just pulled from his shoulders. 

"Aren't you gonna need it?" Jackie asked, reluctantly accepting soft cloth. 

"I've lived through worse." Ling shrugged. "And I'm conditionally immortal now, so." 

"You can have the blanket when you come back to bed." Jackie offered, wrapping the coat around her—oh. It _was_ warm. 

"Thank you." 

Everything was quiet for a bit. Jackie saw Ed's golden hair in the distance, glinting in the moonlight, and realized it was probably his watch and he was making rounds. 

"So," she said, softly, "I'm not leaving Greed. You're clearly not either." 

"This is true." Ling peered at her. 

"It means we're probably going to be interacting a lot more than this in the coming months." Jackie hugged her knees. Why was she so bad at this? "We should probably get to know each other?" 

"I already know a lot about you," Ling told her, "so I guess it'll just be me telling you about myself." 

Jackie pressed her lips together, alarmed, and at Ling's questioning noise, asked, "…You don't, like… know what I look like naked, do you?" 

"Oh, no, I don't look at Greed's fuck memories." Ling quickly assured her. She sighed in relief, relaxing. "One, it's an invasion of privacy, and two, I just don't want to." 

"That's very reassuring to hear." Jackie laughed a little. "Go on, then, tell me about yourself." 

“Hm,” Ling said, drumming his fingers on the hardwood. Jackie got the impression that his contemplation was largely performative; not in an ingenuine matter, but more like he was teasing her about something. “My name is Ling Yao. I’m twenty years old. I like food. I like to make fun of Ed. I’m a Xingese prince. I like—” 

“Wait, what did you say?” 

Ling looked at her innocently. “I like to make fun of Ed.” 

Jackie wondered if he was serious. “After that, if you don’t mind.” 

“I’m a Xingese prince.” 

Jackie folded her hands together. “You’re a prince.” 

“Mhm!” 

She tilted her head back to look at the stars. “I tried to pick a prince’s pocket.” 

“That’s what you’re finding the most difficult to accept?” 

“No, but that’s what I’m starting with.” 

Ling laughed, softly, so as not to wake Darius and Heinkel, and nudged Jackie’s side with his arm. “Well think of it this way: you _did_ pick a prince’s pocket. I never would have even noticed I hadn’t recognized you.” 

“That’s so comforting. Thank you, Ling.” 

Her dry tone made him laugh again. It was a contagious, bubbly sound, different from Greed’s belly laughs, but nice. It made her smile in spite of herself, even as she buried her head in her hands and moaned lamentingly. 

“Do the things I do with Greed count?” she asked. Presumably knowing exactly what she meant, Ling replied, “It is my body.” 

“I kissed a prince.” 

“This is a bad thing?” there was teasing in Ling’s tone. Jackie shifted her hands to expose one eye and glare at him, without any real fire in her gaze. 

“I’m a homeless Amestrian orphan.” Jackie told him. “I’d rather keep my head attached to my neck, thanks.” 

Ling snorted. “I have several siblings known for their promiscuity. No one’s going to bat an eyelash at a kiss.” 

“Okay, that actually is somewhat comforting.” Jackie straightened up. She took a deep breath. “Okay. So you’re a prince. That still hardly tells me anything about you. What’s your favorite color? Any hobbies? Best friend?” 

“Yellow,” Ling replied. “I didn’t really have time for hobbies between combat training and political training, but in my free time I like to read. My best friend is my bodyguard, Lan Fan.” 

Jackie looked around for a second before turning back to him. “Bodyguard?” 

Ling’s smile turned sad. “She’s not here. She got injured fighting Wrath, and amputated her arm herself. She should be back in Xing right now, recovering.” 

“Should be?” 

Ling turned away from her, looking out into the overgrown “yard” and the forest beyond it. “It’s dangerous to cross that desert even in peak physical condition.” 

Jackie watched him, illuminated by the moonlight, and in that moment saw how lonely he was, how worried. 

Jackie knew what it felt like to worry about the well-being of people she cared about. 

Were they closer, she would have reached out to hug him, but they’d really only just met, so instead Jackie laid her hand over his. Ling looked up at her, surprised, his eyes open like normal for a moment before he squinted them again. She smiled at him. “I’m sure she’s fine. I may not know anything about your friend, but I know it’s gotta take one tough cookie to cut off your own arm. She must be a force to reckon with.” 

“Yeah,” Ling smiled at her again, still a touch melancholy, but better than before. “She is.” 

Jackie prodded, ever so gently, “She must mean a lot to you.” 

He chuckled a little, turning his hand beneath hers so he was holding it. “She does, but not the way you’re thinking. We grew up together. She’s like a sister to me.” 

She nodded and squeezed his hand. “What do your other siblings think of that?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know them very well.” She felt her forehead crease. “You don’t?” 

“There are fifty clans that the Xingese population is split into.” Ling started to explain. “Each clan has a chief. When the Emperor takes the throne, he marries one of the daughters of each chief, and they’re expected to bear his children, and we each compete against our siblings for the throne. Whoever he chooses becomes the next Emperor. I’m from the Yao clan. My siblings live with their mothers in their respective clans, being trained in the complexities of politics and such. We’re not exactly close.” 

“I see.” Jackie nodded, then asked, “So what are you doing in Amestris?” 

Ling shrugged. “The Emperor’s health is failing. We’re all scrambling to find something that’ll give us an edge over each other. I came to this country looking for a philosopher’s stone.” 

Jackie almost, _almost_ asked if he found one, before she remembered: Greed. He may not have told her literally anything else about Ling, but he’d told her that he was able to possess Ling’s body because his stone had been absorbed through a cut on his cheek. 

She looked ahead, catching Ed’s hair again. “Lot of good that stone’s going to do you when it’s coursing through your veins.” 

Ling smirked a little, raising his hand. A cool gray that Jackie recognized immediately coated his hand and tipped his fingers with claws. “Oh, I don’t think there’s going to be a whole lot of competition against a prince who can summon an impenetrable shield and heal any injury almost instantly.” 

“But does that guarantee the Emperor’s going to choose you?” Jackie asked, trying to swallow against the physical memory of teeth at her neck and claws trailing lightly down her sides to her hips. 

“If he doesn’t, I can always challenge whoever he does choose to a selection by combat.” Ling’s face turned serious, staring at the claws. His other hand, occupying hers, squeezed. “I won't let Xing fall into the hands of someone who’s going to continue the direction it’s heading in.” 

“What direction is that?” his seriousness distracted her from her recollection, but reminded her that she’d asked for this, quiet literally. She’d wanted to know what kind of a person Ling Yao was. 

His armored hand curled into a fist, his eyes open and full of anger and determination as he stared into the distance. “Nobility and the upper class revel in their absurd amounts of wealth while everyone below them struggles to feed themselves and their families. They die from diseases and injuries that are curable, but that the treatments are too costly to afford. Schools are underfunded, making education difficult. My people are suffering and dying and I _refuse_ to watch it continue any longer.” 

Jackie felt her heartbeat stutter. For a brief moment she wondered—and then pushed that thought aside. She squeezed Ling’s hand in a show of support, but drew her knees back to her chest and wrapped her free arm around them. After a moment of silence, she found her voice, and asked, “Can I come with you two to Xing after all of this?” 

“Of course,” Ling answered, sounding almost confused at her request. “That was the plan ever since you joined us.” 

Jackie laughed a little, mostly from relief. “It would have been nice to know.” 

“We’re still reworking the details.” Ling admitted. “Greed wants to marry you, but I’m still weighing the unifying aspect of taking a wife from each clan against how much I really don’t want fifty wives, and what kind of political statement it will make if I bring a complete stranger from Amestris and marry her, and—there’s a lot to consider. But you’re coming to Xing with us no matter what.” 

"He wants to marry me?" 

"Duh." 

“You guys are awake?” Ed’s voice came from the left as he climbed the stairs to the porch. “You already had your watch. Go to bed. I’ve gotta wake up Darius.” 

Jackie nodded and let Ling help her up, heading back to the abandoned blanket where she’d been sleeping earlier. She wrapped Ling and Greed’s coat around her as she laid down, handing the blanket to Ling—who promptly spread it over the both of them even as he kept a respectful distance. She opened her mouth to object, but he smiled at her innocently, and she knew, though she hadn’t known him long, that it was just useless arguing with him as it was with Greed. 

This was something she could get used to.


End file.
